Rare Moment
by Nienna100
Summary: A rare moment of calm. Useless excuse for Christian/Syed fluff after last night's episode with Syed and Christian's argument with Zainab. Spoilers. Slash. Oneshot


**Disclaimer: Not mine. **

**A/N: I have read the spoilers, and therefore know that there's a heart to heart as some point tonight in the Vic, however, I've been suffering from writer's block and wanted to write some pointless fluff. **

"Christian! Christian wait up!" Syed called as he jogged across the square, and only caught up with the older man when he was at the door to his apartment.

Frowning, Christian asked, "Shouldn't you be going back to Amira? She'll be expecting you."

Syed snorted, "She'll be expecting me to be in the Unit, for at least another half hour."

Leaning against the wall of his building, Christian softly said, "She's hurting Sy. She spent weeks around Bradley and Syd in that apartment. She needs you."

"She has Tamwar." Syed gave a bitter smile. "Those two get on well enough. She'll be fine." Syed brushed a nervous hand through his hair, and Christian's eyes – always sharp when it came to Syed – caught the slight tremble in the movement. "Look, can we go up?"

"Is that the best idea?" Christian quirked an eyebrow.

"Look, Christian. I… you're right… I need you. This… Bradley… everything." Syed sighed, embarrassed. "Amira… I can't talk to her. I have to be the strong one. But I need you."

"I haven't heard that one before. Well.." Christian paused, remembering a time when those words had been panted to him in the darkness of his room. In his room, in his apartment, Syed had been able to be himself. It was the only place in the world where he had been able to relax, and let go of that mask he was forced to present to everyone else. "Maybe I have." With a slight leer, Christian pulled himself away from the wall and turned the key in the lock. "C'me on then."

They scaled the stairs in silence, and did not speak even when they were in the apartment. Syed flung himself down onto the sofa, at once, and pressed his face into his hands. Christian took one glance at the slumped, defeated position, and filled the kettle.

A few minutes later, a large but gentle hand stroked through Syed's thick dark hair, smoothing it away from his face. "I've got you tea."

"Thanks," Syed mumbled, reluctantly looking up and taking the mug from the man he had loved. His fingers brushed against Christian's as he took it, and the sparks which always lit when he touched Christian, flew up his fingers and shivered down into his gut. He couldn't use the past tense when he talked about loving Christian.

"Not a problem." Christian sat down next to him, and a new wave of embers washed through Syed at the close proximity, Christian's thigh against his…

"I want to apologise," Syed blurted out. "What mum said… about you. She has no right to say that to you."

"Zainab's right though, Sy." Syed almost choked on the first sip of tea, and Christian waited until he could breathe again before continuing. "You do not apologise for her. She does not deserve that. If she comes around… or when she comes around… then she can make her own apologies. Until then, I don't want them." He reclined in his seat, and Syed almost hated how comfortable he was in himself. Sometimes it was not fair; he wanted that confidence for his own.

Syed took a long moment, staring into the dark liquid in his mug – exactly how he liked it – before saying, "You take it better than I ever do. How do you manage to do that?"

Christian chuckled, surprising the other man. "I'm not usually one to hold my tongue – that you know – but I remember how hard that woman can slap."

At that, Syed did have to laugh as well, resentfully. "Yeah, that one I know." He detached one hand, removing it from cradling his mug, and raised it to his cheek, which was still heated from the attack.

"She hit you?" Christian rocked forwards and cupped the other man's jaw with his hand. A soft finger stroked across Syed's cheek. "Bitch! Sorry, I know she's your mother, but…"

"She can also be a bitch," Syed conceded. HE turned vulnerable eyes up to his ex-lover, and sighed, "There is nothing I want more than to escape from that. But Amira… watching her hurt like that today over the phone call… That hurts me too."

"And when I hurt? What about then?" asked Christian, letting stroking fingers slide away.

"Of course it does!" exclaimed Syed. "What kind of monster do you think I am?"

"I don't think you're a monster, Sy…I think you're torn. I think it's too difficult for you to decide who should be hurt, and so you dither in the middle where you hurt everyone to a lesser degree," Christian said. "But it hurts you the most of all."

"Would you shut up about it?" complained Syed. "Can't I just relax here? For five minutes in this stupid life. I don't want to think about us, I don't want to think about my marriage to Amira. I… Bradley was only three years younger than me. Three! And he fell off the roof of a building. He was so young, Christian, and his life screwed up, and now he's dead. My life is screwed up! And I know that even if you hold me and tell me everything's going to be alright, it's not going to be." His tirade drained away, and slowed, until it ended in a whisper, "But it doesn't mean I don't' want that to happen."

"You're a fool Syed." Christian offered his arm out and murmured, "It is going to be alright."

Syed placed his mug on a coaster on the table in front of him, and leant back into Christian's stretched out arm. The older man drew him close, and he just rested there, his head on the muscular shoulder, his hand splayed on his waist. Here, he was safe. Here, he could relax. Here, he could _breathe. _He didn't have to pretend, he could just be held and enjoy the feeling of someone protecting him, caring for him, holding him. Why was it too much to ask for that, every day of his life… every time he woke and every time he slept? In between too if he was lucky. "Why can't we just sit here forever?"

"Because just sitting gets boring after a time," Christian drawled. "And we'd starve."

"Am I boring you?" Syed demanded, finger prodding Christian's waist in irritation.

"No, no never."

Syed stopped talking again, merely settling back down in the warmth of the older man's arms. He wished Christian would get bored of him. Then he wouldn't have to hurt anyone but himself and that he would settle for. He was enough of a masochist that he could do that. He didn't want Amira or Christian to hurt, and he was always going to.

Christian was right; he was torn, and there was nowhere he could go without ripping further. He was stretched too tight already, and moments like this were rare.

Closing his eyes, Syed rested his head against the soft fabric of Christian's jumper. Far too rare.

**A/N: Hope you liked it. **


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